Do you know where the word 'nightmare' comes from?
When you sleep, your body goes into this partial paralysis thing to prevent you from sleep-trotting, sleep-squeeing, sleep-bucking, that sort of thing. If it doesn't wear off properly when you wake you get 'sleep paralysis', that really scary feeling where you can't move and your chest feels far too heavy to breathe. It's almost like a mare is lying on top of you, pinning you to your bed. Hence 'nightmare'. It was definitely a name cooked up by some desperately lonely stallion somewhere, probably after one too many lonely ice cream binges.
I got to experience it firsthoof as I slowly woke up that morning (the mare thing, not the lonely stallion thing. I wouldn't know what lonely ice cream binging is like, nope.) I couldn’t move. I could breathe, but something was pinning me to my bed, something unusually warm and fuzzy. It was too bulky to be my blanket, but too soft to be my tail. All in all, my nightmare that morning was strangely… gentle.
I finally succeeded in forcing my bleary eyes open. My gaze swam in a riot of blue and silver as my brain struggled to catch up. My sight finally slid into focus.
And then I struggled to breathe.
My little nightmare was also unusually cute. Breathtakingly so.
The morning sun was already high in the sky as it peered jealously through the open window. Its light danced across her sleeping face where she lay serenely on my chest, barely an inch away from my own. Her breathing was soft, almost a gentle purr as her fluffy chest rose and fell against mine. The warm sunlight twinkled teasingly across the silky tresses of azure and silver that spilled around my sides. She was curled up into her usual snooze-ball, nestled surprisingly cozily on my chest.
This ball of cuteness would definitely have crushed me in my original form. And it would have been so worth it. What was her word for it? Huzzah? Yeah, that’s it. Huzzah for my final form! Huzzah for sleepy little ponies!
"Mmm, aye, We wouldst avail Ourselves to another bowl of yon shooting stars," she mumbled.
Huzzah for sleep-talking!
She sleepily chewed and nibbled on her own wingtip. “Mirple...Yummy shooting stars…” She cooed.
Huzzah for shooting stars!
I felt something move underneath me. It was my tail, wagging in betrayal. Down boy!
But it was too late. Her ears flicked, her little nose twitched, and her tail swished against my belly. She slowly but surely stirred.
I was definitely alone when I went to sleep in the guest room earlier. She must've come in and somehow fallen asleep. On top of me. I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing princesses don't randomly fall asleep. Especially not on top of others! She's gonna go all windup-toy on me again, I just know it. I can't let her know that I know. I gotta....yeah, I gotta pretend I'm still asleep!
I quickly plopped my head back down on my pillow and closed my eyes. But not without leaving a teeny crack in my eyelids.
I'm just keeping a vigilant eye on her, that's all. It's not as if I like watching her sleep or anything. Uh, not in a creepy way anyway.
Y’know what, shutting up now.
To watch the ‘Princess of Sleep’ wake up was to watch fine art in motion. The sunlight played across her soft fur as she slowly raised her head off her forehooves. She yawned squeakily into her forehooves. She rose up onto her rearhooves and stretched luxuriously, digging her forehooves into my chest. Some might accuse it of being catlike if it weren’t already sentenced for being criminally cute. She gave a long, contented sigh as she slowly lowered herself back down, tucking her hooves neatly underneath her. She blinked twinkly sleep out of her eyes as she looked around.
And then she stiffened as her eyes landed on me. She was so frozen she could've easily won a staring competition with Tom, hooves down. "Zounds! Lulu, thou forgot to tie thy sleep-flitter anchor around thyself! Again!" She finally shattered the silence by slamming her face into her forehooves repeatedly.
Oh wow! She sleep-flitters! Huzzah for sleep-flittering!
So that's what the length of rope in her saddlebags was for. She anchors herself to prevent sleep-flittering and floating away in her sleep. I always find it annoying whenever Rainbow Dash sleep-flitters and crashes through our windows at two AM in the morning. But why does the image of a sleeping Luna floating at the end of a rope like a little kite make me feel all floaty inside?
Ah, now it’s all making sense. She somehow sleep-flittered into my room and managed to safely sleep-land. Right on top of me.
Not that I'm complaining. Spike 1, pillow 0. Buck yeah.
Huh, wait, she managed to fly. Does that mean her injured wing is working again? How is that possible? Or am I gonna have to put that down to yet another random side effect of pony rainbow super-spells?
My thoughts came to a grinding halt as I realized she was staring right at me. "What shall I do?" she murmured.
How should I know?
She suddenly froze, the silence broken only by the sound of her tummy rumbling… I mean, the thunder rumbling outside. Survival experience has taught me that if in doubt, it is always the thunder. Yeah, never mind that the sun was shining through the window. It was, by silent royal decree, a rumble of thunder.
She receded into her shoulders as she slowly cast her wide-eyed gaze around the room. "Um, I shouldst mayhaps wake dear Spike up," she murmured, shifting uncomfortably.
Her solution to her hungry tummy rumbl-...the freak thunderstorm outside is waking me up? This logic is infallible.
She tapped her chin with a forehoof thoughtfully. "What art the common customs f’r waking somepony again?"
Did the Princess of Sleep just ask how to wake somepony up?
She suddenly nodded to herself. "Ah aye, dear Minuette hath counsell’d me extensively upon the matter."
You take advice from Minuette of all ponies?!
She tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "Hmm, I doth marry recall the wisdom she impart’d. These days ponies wake one another up with these 'berries of rasps'," she said to herself.
Celestia ram the sun on my face. She's gonna raspberry me!
She carefully eyed me from my chest up to my neck and nose. "Now, what part of one's anatomy shouldst these berries be appli'd to-. . . forsooth, whence should I aim mine strike?" she murmured to herself.
Harmony save me! She has no idea where to aim her raspberry and she's picking her target at random!
“Thou can do this, Lulu," she whispered encouragingly to herself. "Thou hast train'd in this art this f'r many moons."
What has she been training on?!
She clopped her forehooves together determinedly. "Aye, there hath not been a training dummy I cannot crush into a myriad of pieces with mine rasps," she reassured herself.
What have you been practicing your raspberries with? Battle axes?
"I can do this." She nodded to herself, confidently.
No! Just because you can doesn't mean you should! Don't do it! Please don't do it!
She looked down at my face. I struggled to keep my face straight, my breathing even, the very picture of a slumbering dragon, hoping she might let the sleeping dragon lie. For something I get a lot of practice at, sleep was turning out to be quite a challenge this morning.
She blushed a little before quickly shaking herself. She sidled forwards, leaning closer and closer. Her muzzle neared mine. I felt her warm breath on my nose, short and nervous. Something brushed my lips. I tensed. I never imagined my first would be with anypony other than Rarity. Something at the back of my mind cried bloody treason. I love Rarity. Right? I thought, even as my lips slowly prepared for my betrayal.
My puckered lips grasped at nothing but air even as they cautiously sought contact. I snuck another peek. She was leaning past me to one side, completely missing my lips, her cheek gently nuzzling mine. Hay, uh, my lips are over here.
Wait, if she's not about to raspberry me on the face, where is she....?
"Verily, Minuette did mention blowing on one's ears or something of that manner," she thought out loud again, her voice worryingly close to my right ear.
Before I could even think of leaping for cover, she had closed the distance between us. Her lips cupped tightly around my ear. Then she took a deep breath. Close up it sounded disturbingly like the Elements whirring up for a banishment.
And then she tried to blow in my ear.
She in fact very nearly achieved surgical removal of my brain clean through my other ear with the help of her Royal Canterlot Lungs.
BLOOOOOOOOOOORP
Such was the sound of my brain being banished to the moon. At sonic rainboom speeds.
I rose off my bed with a start, bowling over the little pony backwards onto my lap. She flailed her forehooves in the air as she fought to stay upright. Gravity would have pulled her backwards out of my lap and onto the floor if I hadn't reached out to curl an arm around the small of her back.
"Huzzah, the berries have been rasped!" she declared triumphantly, looking very pleased with herself even as she hung precariously in my grasp. I had to turn my head to hear her. My right ear had all the sensitivity of a moon crater. It probably looked like one too.
"Jeez, Meep-...Princess Luna, what are you doing?" I asked.
She blinked, cocking her head to one side, her big teal eyes just inches away from my own. Her gaze trailed downwards, tracing my arms to where they curled tightly around her. It may have been a trick of the late morning sunlight, but I thought I could see a soft blush bloom on her cheeks. I jerked my claws back, quickly releasing her. We turned to stare at the creases in the bedsheets, at the whorls in the woodwork, anything but each other.
My tail may or may not have slid under the blankets to curl around her. Just to be safe, you know. So she couldn’t fall over and stuff. Totally.
She shifted nervously before finally peering up from the corners of her eyes. "Well, I was waking you up," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Never has the act of completely missing the point ever been so adorable.
"By trying to resuscitate me through my ear?" I hazarded. "Uh, Princess Luna, how often do you wake other ponies up?" I asked, curious.
"All the time." She somehow managed to huff while maintaining her pout. "I am the Princess of the Night."
Pretty sure there haven’t been any reports of ponies waking up mysteriously lobotomized. I gave her another pointed look.
“...”
"Um, sometimes," she faltered a little.
“...”
"You're not the first,” her voice faded to a soft huff as she avoided my gaze.
“...”
"Fine. You can be the first. If you want," she added in the tiniest of whispers, giving the tips of her hoofsies a furious glare. "Not like it matters to me or anything," she muttered under her breath.
Wow, I have her permission to be the first to ever be personally woken up by the Princess of the Night. I gotta be the luckiest drake alive! I mean, I actually survived!
I looked down to find her staring at my nose intently. She crossed her forehooves and gave a resolute little nod, as if deciding on something. Her next raspberry target, perhaps?
"Today I merely triumph. Tomorrow I shall conquer, elusive berries," she said determinedly, mostly to herself.
Wait, there's gonna be a next time? Just how blast-proof is my nose? Will I have to find out firsthoof?
I finally found fear. It is lethally cute and plots deadly raspberries.
My thoughts were interrupted by another rumble from her sto-....my own tummy. “Oh, hay, look at the time. No wonder I’m so hungry.” I chuckled offhoofedly. “I’ll just go make us some pancakes and...”
“That was me,” a little voice admitted.
“...waffles and…” I paused as my brain caught up with my ears. “What?” I blinked. Did she just admit it was her tummy?
She stared down at her hoofsies where they were curled into the blanket. “Yes, my tummy does rumble when I’m hungry,” she admitted with a soft blush. “I won’t trouble you with my insecurities anymore. I’ve troubled you enough as it is.”
“Princess Luna,” I sighed.
“In fact, you...you’ve already done a lot for me. If anything, I’m the one who should cater to you to make up for all this,” she said, her hold on the blanket tightening with each word. “I’ll do anything, anything at all. I’ll wash your laundry, do your groceries, anything. Please, just allow me to stay for as long as my magic is...” Her rambling came to a very sudden halt. Her widened eyes went cross-eyed as she tried to peer down at whatever it was booping her on the nose.
I chuckled even as she tried to scrunch her nose at my claw. “Hay, magic circle, remember?” I said, nodding down at my tail curled around her back. She looked back up at me, her cheeks erupting in a furious blush. “The moon isn’t your problem. It’s ours. Besides, it’s not a problem a hug or two won’t fix.” Her blush competed with the sun to light up the room at the mention of our newfound spell. “And don’t worry about everything else. We can already move entire moons together. Figuring out the rest will be easy peasy cider squeezy! We can take our time and…”
I suddenly found myself with a little pegasus tackle-glomping my neck. “Hay, we don’t have to practice with the spell again so soon.” I gave a nervous chuckle. She was stammering something I couldn’t really catch. Both her hug and her random timing were as awkward as ever, but that adorable awkwardness gave it an earnestness that more than spoke for her. She was grateful. It was a little over the top, sure. I mean, all I did was do my part to keep the world from becoming a big dark popsicle, right?
I felt a wetness against my neck, the very side she was nuzzling. The warm flood of relief and gratitude from her was almost scalding on my scales. That’s when I suddenly realized just how closely we had dodged that changeling divebomb. We were very alike, she and I. We had both messed up once. She did that thing with the moon. I did the Tirek thing long before it was cool. We ruined the lives of many. And yet our loved ones still forgave us. We were both on our second chances. A lot of ponies risked a lot to give us our second chance. There was no blowing it. We owe them that much. And yet we still managed to come within a breezie’s breadth of bucking it up royally.
Only then did I realize that I’d almost lost everything: My life amongst my pony friends, my parents, Twi and….Luna.
I slowly drew her into a shaky hug. “H-hay, we’ll be alright,” I said a little hoarsely, more to myself than anything. “I-In fact, we’re gonna practice the spell. We’re gonna practice it till it’s perfect.” There was a grim desperation in the sudden tightening of her hold. I forced a little chuckle in reply. “Hay, you’re practically a champion. You sure you’re not the alicorn princess of huggles or something?” I gave her a reassuring squeeze. She was, in fact, getting better, believe it or not.
She gave a wet giggle. “You...you always know exactly what to say, Sparks.” She sniffled, smiling faintly as she slowly raised her tearful gaze. “You always, always do.”
I puffed up my chest with mock pride. “They say I’m good for doing nothing but comic relief. You bet your socks I’m darn good at it!” I chuckled as she allowed me to gently dry her tears.
She opened her eyes to give me a withering glare. “Sparks…” She huffed before drawing a slow, deep breath. “Twice now. Twice the world had gone dark for me. The first time, my sister, she...she did the right thing. She banished me and saved the world.” I could tell from how she fidgeted that this was a bitter topic, one she rarely, if ever, spoke of. “The second time, the Elements did the right thing. They sought to banish me and save the world once more.” She put on a haunted look. “But you...you’ve done something not a single pony has ever done before, Sparks.” She looked up at me, giving me a little smile. “You reached out when nopony else did. You lit up the dark for me. You saved me and the world. I’m here now because of you. Everything I am now is because of everything you are. And you tell me you are nothing? What does that make me? Look at me, Sparks. Look at me and tell me I am ‘nothing’.”
Uh.
She’s not nothing. She’s…she’s adorable. She’s cute. She’s selfless to a fault. She’s persevering. She’s awesome. And she’s just so...so everything. I just...I just never stopped to think about it.
And if she says that’s all because of me, I…I’m...
Wow.
I just gaped, my jaw flapping uselessly. She just said the words I didn’t even know I’d always wanted to hear from somepony, anypony. I had no words. I would never have enough words.
“So never let anypony tell you that you’re good at nothing, Sparks. I am proof that that isn’t true,” she said firmly. “Though…” her stern look suddenly gave way to a playful little smile, “...you did say either ‘nothing’ or ‘comic relief’.” She suddenly gave a little giggle into a forehoof. “Perhaps that makes me ‘comic relief’ then?”
Oh Celestia, the Spike brand of humour’s rubbing off on her!
“That means there’s a lot for you to be good at, huh, Sparks?” She gave me a mischievous look through her mane as she pressed up against me. I became suddenly, painfully aware of just how hot the room was. My heart hit the emergency stop to prevent my blood from popping my head like a Pinkie balloon in the heat. “So, about practicing raising stuff…?” she whispered in a low voice. She slowly ran her long silky tail against her flank...before it accidentally caught on the tip she didn’t realize she was sitting on. She gave a sudden loud squeak as her snagged tail sent her flailing into my chest.
I chuckled as I caught her. “There’s a lot to practice alright,” I said, helping her untangle her tail.
“Muuuuuuu...the books make it seem so easy,” I heard her groan, mostly to herself, as she buried her face in my chest. It felt awfully hot for some reason. I could probably fry an egg or two on her scalding cheeks.
“Speaking of practice, do you have any idea how we even managed that? The whole moon thing, I mean,” I asked offhoofedly. I mean, it’d really help to know what exactly we were doing beyond doing the friendship pretzel.
“Wh-wha…?” she suddenly sputtered, drawing back. “Wh-what are you trying to make a lady say?! E-especially when you suffer the need to ask such a question in the first place?!” She crossed her forehooves with an indignant huff.
Huh? What did I do wrong this time? I’m not making her say anything, am I?
Wait, does that mean she knows what happened? Then why wouldn’t she tell me? Wouldn’t that knowledge help us raise and lower the moon better?
Why do mares have to be so complicated?
The look on her face reminded me of Mom whenever she was in the mood to be complicated. I resorted to Dad’s default strategy. “Uh, sorry.” Dad taught me and Shining: When in doubt, a stallion should apologize first and ask questions later. Flowers often help. Apparently that way you’d still have a chance at ‘getting some’, whatever that means.
Then again, Dad also believes mares magically turn into tigers when they go to bed... so his knowledge on mares might not be entirely, y’know, grounded in real life.
“I mean, I was just thinking..." I tried to explain. The almighty pout she was aiming at my chest told me ‘thinking’ was probably a bad idea. “Alright, I’m not thinking. Not in the slightest. Nope,” I said hurriedly. “Probably doesn’t matter how we did it anyway, as long as we keep it up tonight. And tomorrow. Everyday until we figure out how to sort things out.”
“If yo-...If we figure it out,” she said, giving the bedspread a sullen look. “Why me?” she muttered, so softly I barely heard over her face-hoofing.
I guess the whole moon-raising thing was a great deal more worrying than she was letting on.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, as reassuringly as I could. “This library has never let us down when it comes to randomly helpful books for every situation. Failing that, we can always go and ask Twili-...” I felt my voice dwindle, swallowed by a dark, treacherous thought, ‘Do I….do I really want this fixed? I mean, won’t she...won’t she just leave when she gets her magic back? Won't she return to her life as a mighty princess of Equestria? Away from simple ol’ me?’
My mind reeled. The memory of me falling into a deep, endless darkness returned to haunt me. No, please, never again!
SPIKE WANT. MINE! MIINE!
“T-there is no rush,” she suddenly said, thankfully voicing my exact thoughts. “I mean, uh, we shouldn’t rush Twilight. Yes, that’s it. We should give her space, especially after what happened last night.”
“Y-yeah! Twi needs space. All the space! Let’s give her a day.” I agreed hurriedly.
“A mare’s heart needs time. A few days,” she quickly suggested.
“A week. Maybe even a few.” I nodded. “As long as she needs. We’ll just sit tight till then. She knows where to find us.”
“D-does that mean…” She made no effort to hide the hope glowing in her teal eyes. “Does that mean it’s alright for me to stay?”
“Well, yeah! Totally!” I blurted out. “Uh, I mean, we gotta stick together for a while anyway, right?” I added, awkwardly.
“Yes. Yes, indeed!” she was quick to agree. “We...we can maintain our ruse in the meantime.” Her ears twitched and her tail flicked, betraying her excitement. “To allay suspicions. That’s all,” she swiftly added. “I can pretend to be your, um, friend of the mare variety?” She twiddled her hooftips, giving me a hopeful look all the while.
“Uh, yeah. And I guess that makes me your, uh, the opposite of marefriend, right?” I stammered, intelligently.
“And we can pretend we’re…” she began excitedly, but was rudely interrupted by another loud rumble of hunger. She clutched at her tummy as her seemingly endless supply of blood again rushed to her cheeks.
“How about we go pretend to have breakfast together, Princess Luna?” I suggested with a grin.
“Uh, um, yes, let us pretend.” She nodded, meekly. “With...with real food, yes?” She gave me a sheepish look, her tail swishing in anticipation.
“Yeah, real waffles too.” I chuckled.
I caught her trying to look away, wiping a furtive forehoof across her muzzle. “Th-There is one thing that will not be delayed, delicious waffles or no!” She pointed her forehoof at me. It would have been an imperious hoof if it didn’t glisten with a hint of waffle-induced drool.
Wow, for something to be more important than food, it must be real serious.
I quickly put on my more-serious-than-food-face. It is a very complicated face. “Uh, what is it?” I gulped.
“We...We have established that I am not allowed to be a princess in our magic circle.” Her glowing blush renewed itself. “You should therefore address me appropriately.”
“What?” I said, intelligently.
“Call me something else, will you, Sparks?” she translated, crossing her forehooves impatiently.
“Uh.” So, a nickname? I racked my brains for something, anything. Moon-Moon? What am I, five? Fluffle-Puff? No, she’s not pink enough. Sweet-buns? Moonbutt? What, do I want to be sent on a one-way trip to the moon? Snugglelots? Adorabombs?
Wait, what was it she called herself when we first met? “Meeplesquee!” I blurted before I could stop myself.
You know, I was worrying over this whole pretending thing for nothing. Her acting was top notch. With how much she squeaked and blushed, while her tail threatened to fly off, you’d think she was actually genuinely flustered over her new nickname.
“Wh-what sickeningly sweet hole did that...that painfully saccharine abomination crawl from?!” she demanded, her voice reaching an adorable level of squeakiness that made me wonder whether there was some hamster somewhere in her ancestry.
I felt a little smile play across my face. “I’m pretty sure it was you, Meepy,” I said with relish.
“Meeplesquee!” she squeaked, obviously agreeing with my choice of nickname, even as she ducked for cover under the blanket.
“Yep, Meepy,” I repeated, just to be sure. I wasn’t teasing or anything, honest.
“Meeplesquee!” she broke the squeak barrier, reaching a squeakiness beyond normal pony hearing as her wings and tail pitched a little tent under the blanket. Thankfully, dragons have a much wider range of hearing. Much wider.
Huh, looks like her wing really has been magically restored. I didn’t spare it much thought. I had far more important things to see to. Such as making sure I squeeze this for all it was worth. “Meepy.” I drove the finishing blow home with almost sadistic glee.
“Meeplesquee!”
I am not entirely sure why Pinkie Pie had decided it was a good idea to hide more of Dr. Whooves’ fireless fireworks inside the library, specifically under my guest bed. Then again I guess ‘why’ never really applies to Pinkie. A whole bunch of said fireworks randomly decided to go off inside the room, bouncing and pinwheeling from the walls and ceiling. A few even chased me as I ran for my life, a squeaking little blanket-bundle in my arms.
As Meepy and I dove for cover under the library’s centre table, I couldn’t help but wonder: Did Dr. Whooves ever figure out the trigger for his junk?
The warm sun streamed through the rustic kitchen windows, accompanying a morning breeze through the simple white curtains. The two accidentally stumbled into the violent crossfire that had engulfed the never-really-peaceful land of Waffle-topia. Along one side, the remains of the sprinkles-and-banana-alliance were fighting to spread sprinkle-flavoured liberty under the leadership of General Spike the Brave. Against them stood the last of the strawberry-and-cream royalists, poor misled foals fighting for the strawberry supremacist, Queen Meepy the Unadventurous.
“Brave cream crusaders and strawberry patriots, you have fought tastefully. I cannot ask for a greater feast,” Queen Meepy of the strawberry-and-cream monarchists addressed her weak and shaky lines. “But we fight no mere bandit, nor greedy invader. No, we stand against the darkest of culinary heresy! These fickle sprinkles and crooked bananas would defile our sacred land and the sanctity of breaking our fast! But not this day! Our vengeance shall be swift, our justice scrumptious, and our victory delicious!”
I had a speech all prepared too. For victory that is! I smirked as I casually withdrew my banana and sprinkle army from the field of battle, leaving the last waffle on the no-ponies-land between us untouched.
“The enemy general flees the field of battle! A shameful display!” she laughed triumphantly as she lunged out for the last waffle, quickly claiming it with the full force of her strawberry-and-cream army. She built herself a layered fortress of cream topped with battlements of strawberries, gloating at me all the while. “Today we dine on victory!” she declared, holding the waffle up high. With an elegant flourish she lowered it to her mouth. She only paused to smirk smugly before biting into her prize.
Her eyes immediately widened in surprise. “D-deception! T-treachery!” she choked, clutching her throat in horror. “H-how c-could th-the foul sprinkles and crooked bananas breach our defenses undetected?!”
“Yeah, well…” I chuckled, before putting on my most pompous voice. I probably sounded like Blueblood with a cat shoved down his throat. “You cannot remove what was part of the land from the beginning. The people are the land, and the sprinkles and bananas are its heart!”
“Y-you baked them into the batter!” she gasped in horror at my absolute genius. She quickly pushed the waffle away as if it was some dirty mass-puppy-kicker. “Y-you...you defiler of waffles!”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” I grinned before puffing a little ball of green flame at the morsel. The little flare quickly swept the last waffle away in a spiral of green smoke. To her great horror and my personal glee, the emerald smoke did an alarming hairpin turn and rushed straight at her.
“No!” she cried, clasping her forehooves protectively over her mouth. But the smoke didn’t care, seeping straight past her feeble defense and into her mouth. “Mmmph!” She gave a muffled squeak as the taste of banana, strawberry, sprinkles and cream-topped waffle goodness exploded in her mouth. The eruption of flavour launched her into a full canter round and round the breakfast table, her wings flapping helplessly. “Mmmpppph! Mmmph! Mmmmph!” she cried into her full mouth. “Mmm….mmmmmm?” She slowed into a sedate trot as a little smile spread across her bulging muzzle. “Mmmmm~” She sat back on her rump, raising her forehooves up to clutch her cheeks in obvious delight. “Mmmmmm!” she sighed, ears twitching, tail swishing happily.
So I didn’t get the last waffle, but that was totally a win.
Ring ring…
A familiar sound interrupted breakfast. Or our version of breakfast, anyway. “Huh, was that the doorbell?” I frowned.
“Mmph...mmm…” Luna finally, if reluctantly, swallowed her newfound delight. “Well, it certainly gave that impression,” she said, struggling to lick cream and sprinkles off her nose.
Talk about obsession over detail. Even the doorbell sounded exactly the same as the old one. I couldn’t help but wonder, who’d visit the library so early in the morning? More importantly, who’d know there was anypony to visit here in the first place?
My heart leapt up my throat in an effort to choke me alive.
It’s Twi. It’s gotta be. Who else would come here?
Alternate Versions of the Insert Illustration
Uncursed Luna Version
HiE Simulator Version
AiE Simulator Version